


Life Goes on

by storywriter55



Category: White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Gen, Life in Paris, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29388186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter55/pseuds/storywriter55
Summary: A sequel to the series finale (spoilers for finale). What does the future hold for Neal?
Relationships: Neal Caffrey/Sara Ellis, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

By the time Neal made his way down rue de Lacourcière, Sara had stepped out of the boulangerie on the corner to catch up with him.

‘Did you get it?’ he asked as she laced her arm in his.

‘All set’ she replied as she showed him the bag dangling from her arm.

For the past three months, they’d been spending weekends together, mostly in Paris, although sometimes at Sara’s flat in London. With the indictment of the Pink Panthers senior members, Neal had finally been in touch with her and revealed the fact that he was very much alive and well. 

He’d given the revelation a lot of thought. Ever since he’d arrived in Paris, he knew the moment would eventually come when it would be safe to let his loved ones learn the truth and he’d had very little else to do but prepare for that moment for the better part of a year. 

He thought back to the day he’d boarded the plane in Montreal bound for Paris. He hadn’t wanted to take the chance of flying out of the States and instead, he’d dug up his Canadian passport for François Martin and driven the ten or so hours to the Canadian border in a rented car. From there, it had been a snap to get on the plane as a French Canadian tourist with an open return ticket finally arriving at Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to start his new life.

The weeks preceding his ‘death’ had been a whirlwind as he made sure every single part of his elaborate plan was in place for his departure. He hadn’t had time to give much thought to what would happen when he got to the other end. Conning Keller, making sure his ‘death’ went off without a hitch, getting everyone paid off, saying his goodbyes as unobtrusively as possible — it had all been a blur, totally disconnected from his emotions, something which had been essential for his plan to work. If he even stopped to think about what his leaving would do to those he loved, he would have wavered and that was unacceptable when the stakes were so high. 

A boy... Peter and El were having a baby boy and suddenly as if the stakes hadn’t been high enough, they’d grown exponentially higher and he’d had to stay focussed in order to get through every phase of his plan without distraction or hesitation. 

The first few days following his arrival in Paris had been a flurry of activity what with finding a place to live, getting his bearings again and simply catching his breath and luxuriating in his long awaited freedom. Although he loved the sense of self-determination his new situation granted him, the first few days he’d awakened disoriented and feeling somewhat bereft without the reassuring presence on his left ankle. Of course, any fleeting thought of his monitoring anklet brought with it thoughts of Peter, his best friend, who’d been on the other end of the tether for over four years. He’d shaken off the feeling at first, reminding himself that this had been the only logical choice he could have made but more nights than he cared to admit, he’d lie in bed, longing for his life back in New York surrounded by the people he cared about and who cared about him.

Like those he’d left behind to mourn his passing, he’d gone through the many stages of grief and, mixed in with his exhilaration at finally being a free man, was sadness at the price he’d had to pay. After a few months, reality had set in and Neal had sunk into a crushing state of depression. He’d had to work hard to overcome the hopelessness and begin to focus on the future. The day would come when he’d be free to step out of the shadows and reveal himself to his loved ones. There _was_ light at the end of the tunnel, he just wasn’t sure how long the damn tunnel was and what state he’d be in when he got to the other side. All the while, he’d kept his ear to the ground and waited for word that the Panthers were no longer a threat to him and to those he loved. Then, he would truly be free from his past, free to live life on his own terms and be reunited with his loved ones. He just had to hang on a little bit longer.

Not that it had all been Sturm und Drang. Neal had enjoyed living in Paris, the sights, the great food, the museums, the shows, the culture. And he’d spent most of his days and nights living what had once been the dream – the life he’d convinced himself he’d wanted more than anything. Once, that is, long before he’d realized that life was more than sights and great food and museums and shows and culture. 

Before Peter and Elizabeth Burke. 

Before Sara Ellis. 

Before June Ellington. 

Before the White Collar unit. 

Before he’d known better. 

The word had finally come that the Panthers had been indicted and Neal had joyfully begun to put his plan in motion. He’d been thrilled to finally get word to Mozzie that he was alive and well. He and his old friend had devised many contingency plans over the years and it had been easy to contact Mozzie and give him specific instructions on how to bring Peter into the loop. It had taken but a few days for Peter to show up on Mozzie’s street corner to give him the news about the indictments and it had been child’s play for Mozzie to leave the bottle of Bordeaux on the Burkes’ front stoop, knowing full well Peter would follow the trail back to Neal.

Sara was another story. She’d been so close now for so long and Neal had resisted on too many occasions just hopping on the train and breaching the short three hundred and fifty kilometres that separated them. Of course, he had no idea how she would react or if she even wanted him back in her life. But he was free now and living mostly on the straight and narrow and maybe this was the other time and place Sara had spoken of that day atop the Empire State Building. A guy could hope... and he’d spent hours ruminating about the best way to reach out to her.

Finally, one Tuesday morning, he’d put his plan in motion, calling a florist in London he’d visited years earlier with his very specific order. He had sent orchids (her favourites) with a mysterious signature in the hopes of preparing her for the shock of seeing him again – _‘Thinking of you Repo’_ he’d signed. But the flowers had come at a particularly busy time and Sara hadn’t even bothered to look at the card, assuming they’d come from a client whose case they’d just closed and who’d been particularly grateful for her help. She’d simply placed the gorgeous bouquet on her sideboard with a grateful smile before returning to the numerous cases she was overseeing.

Neal had then waited a day or two, although he’d practically had to tether himself to the Eiffel Tower so he wouldn’t get ahead of himself. Stage two was a face to face meeting. He’d debated about whether to go to her office or to her flat and he’d finally determined that her flat was more appropriate for a long awaited reunion such as this. He’d taken hours to get ready, fussing on small details – his pocket square, his hair, his suit – before realizing that none of it mattered. If, as he hoped, Sara was open to having him back in her life, she would welcome him with open arms, no matter what. 

He’d made his way up busy York Street, holding his breath and praying he was doing the right thing. He’d nervously strolled into her apartment building at eight o’clock on a Thursday night, hoping she was home, yet just as terrified that she might be. He had no idea what to expect and truth be told, he hadn’t been sure himself what lay ahead. What he _did_ know without the shadow of a doubt was that he wanted her in his life again and he believed the time was right to make that happen.

He’d heard soft music coming from Sara’s flat and had a fleeting thought. What if she wasn’t alone? They hadn’t been in touch for over a year and even those last conversations before the Panthers heist had been brief and casual, just the _‘hi, how are things?’_ ritual they’d fallen into after she’d moved to London. For all he knew, she could be involved in a serious relationship and their reunion could be cut short before it ever happened. He’d finally taken a deep breath and put on his patented Caffrey smile before knocking on the door. She’d answered almost immediately and he’d had a few fleeting seconds of seeing her beautiful eyes staring back at him before she’d collapsed, Neal just barely breaking her fall as she hit the ground.

Sara laughed now as she recalled that moment but it had been anything but funny at the time. She’d hit her head on the parquet and Neal had gotten her situated on the nearby couch before running to fetch a glass of water. She’d come to within minutes but the shock had lingered as she’d listened to Neal recount the events surrounding his untimely demise. She had finally accepted a glass of wine with her shaking hands as she’d sat there, white as a sheet, taking in the ghost before her eyes.

It had taken some time but they’d begun to see each other again, mostly on weekends, although Neal had surprised her on weekdays on a couple of occasions, preparing dinner for her at her flat before spending the night in her bed. Sara had been cautious at first, unsure of Neal’s intentions but their relationship continued to blossom and she could see him settling into the job he loved as head of security at the Louvre, something that allowed him to be around the beloved pieces of art he so enjoyed. She’d wondered at first if the coveted job had been a long con but as time went on, she could see the genuine pride he had in his new position and they’d dared to start talking about a future together.

She squeezed his arm and he glanced in her direction as she fell into step with him in front of the boulangerie. She wanted to pinch herself. They'd been handed a second chance at a life together and although they were both uncertain about what that life might look like, they were cautiously optimistic that their lives were destined to remain intertwined.

‘So, what time are they getting here?’ she asked.

He glanced at her, unable to stifle a wide grin. ’On the five o’clock flight. I said we’d pick them up.’

She nodded. She hadn’t seen Peter and Elizabeth in almost two years and she looked forward to meeting Neal’s namesake who was now a busy toddler, according to his mom.

‘Did you invite Mozzie for dinner?’ she asked as they continued towards Neal’s apartment.

Neal scoffed. ‘Did you really thing I could keep him away?’

Although Mozzie had begun to get a life of his own and was working as a barista in a local coffee shop, he was still running small time cons on the side and he was never very far, living a few blocks from Neal.

‘So… we have our baguette. I’ve got the flowers… anything else before we head back and change?’ he asked.

Sara shrugged. ‘No, I think you’ve got everything you need’ she said.

Neal looked at her fondly before speaking. ‘You’re right… I do.’

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

‘Dammit!’ Neal shouted as a little green Peugeot snuck around him and slid into the parking spot.

Sara looked over at him; she’d rarely seen him this keyed up in all the years she’d known him.

‘Lots of time, Neal. It’s only 4:15’ she reminded him, gently touching his arm.

‘This is crazy. There’s not enough parking in this place’ he complained, frazzled.

‘Right up there!’ she pointed as a spot opened up nearby.

Neal pulled in, parking the car and letting out a long slow breath.

‘Sorry about that’ he said finally, returning to his cool, collected self.

‘I know you’re excited about seeing Peter and Elizabeth....’ she began.

‘And baby Neal’ he added with a smug smile.

‘... and baby Neal’ she repeated. ‘But you’re going to blow a gasket before they even get here if you don’t calm down’ she said, letting her hand linger on his arm in an effort to ground him.

They had just arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport to welcome their friends off the long flight across the pond and Neal had been on pins and needles all day, making sure everything was perfect in anticipation of their arrival and their long awaited visit to Paris.

Although he’d been in touch with Peter several times over the past three months, the contacts had all been via phone or Skype and he was beyond eager to see the Burkes in person and welcome them to his new home. He’d seen pictures of their little guy – as a matter of fact, he had one proudly displayed on the mantle back at his apartment – but he was thrilled to finally be meeting him face to face so he could spend some quality time with him.

Neal gave Sara a sheepish grin, thankful she was there to temper his mood and the two of them stepped out of the car and began to make their way into the busy airport. He hadn’t been there in over a year, not since the day François Martin had arrived from Montreal and it took him a minute to get his bearings in the bustling building. They were heading towards the arrivals lounge when Neal spotted something in the window of one of the airport boutiques and he made his way over, pulling Sara with him.

WCWCWC

Peter slowly came to and turned to his right noticing Elizabeth was still sound asleep. He looked down at his son who lay across his chest, snoozing away. It had taken a while for him to settle but the constant rumbling of the aircraft had finally lulled him into a deep sleep and his dad was grateful for the quiet reprieve. He moved gingerly to check his watch, careful not to disturb the baby’s slumber. Another hour and they would be landing. A smile crept in, unbeknownst to Peter who’d been basically smiling non-stop for the past three months. 

He thought back to that afternoon in the storage unit where everything had changed. As the evidence mounted in front of his very eyes, he’d begun to allow himself to believe, _really_ believe that Neal was still alive, against all odds. He still didn’t know the details of how his partner had managed to pull the sleight of hand but it was obvious Neal had left nothing to chance and he’d managed to fool them all, most importantly the Pink Panthers who were now safely out of reach.

He recalled the relief that had flooded him that day as the pieces of the puzzle had begun to fall into place, how he’d made his way home seemingly floating on air and the look in El’s eyes when he’d described what he’d just seen. Even little Neal, who’d been six months at the time, had seemed relieved as he watched his daddy breathlessly explain the unexplainable to his mommy. It had been a matter of days before Neal was in touch, this time by cryptic e-mail, making sure his sudden reappearance wouldn’t be the cause of some overwhelming shock for his ex-partner. Peter had responded to the message and within minutes, Neal’s familiar face had appeared on his computer screen as the two of them had finally reconnected, a little over a year after their forced parting of the ways. 

There had been none of the anger or disappointment Neal had feared as he’d recounted the events of the days leading up to his sudden departure. Peter had been accepting and understanding of Neal’s decision - and ultimately his actions - although Neal could see that his ‘death’ had caused a lot of pain and suffering to those he loved. But, thankfully his actions hadn’t caused a permanent rift and the door had been left open for a reunion as Peter and Elizabeth had eagerly begun to plan for a trip across the ocean to reunite with their friend. It had taken several weeks for the Burke family to pull things together for the trip. Although Peter was owed more vacation time that he could ever take, there were cases to wrap up before they could take off on their holiday. 

Now, three months later, they were finally on their way to France to visit Neal, Sara and Mozzie.

‘You okay?’ he heard the sleepy voice ask.

He turned towards Elizabeth, the permanent smile still on his lips as he nodded. He was more than okay. Neal’s absence had left a hole that would never be filled and his best friend’s last words to him as they’d parted that day had haunted him for the better part of a year. He still couldn’t believe his grief had clouded his critical thinking to such an extent that it had taken a big neon sign (or in this case a small wine cork) flashing the number 701 for him to follow up on that mysterious key he’d been handed on that fateful day. He chalked it up to shock and grief but he’d chastised himself on more than one occasion over the past few months when he thought of how he might have avoided them all so much pain and suffering if he’d been his usual and sharp Agent Peter Burke self.

‘His schedule is going to be all messed up’ El said as she gently touched her son’s hair.

‘He’ll survive’ Peter said, gazing down at the sleeping infant.

‘What time is it in Paris?’

Peter took her hand in his. ’Five after four’ he replied.

WCWCWC

Neal stood clutching the stuffed animal in his arms as Sara stood nearby watching him. He’d changed so much since she’d been with him in New York. The last three months, she’d observed a transformation in Neal, not the least of which was his level of self-confidence and his faith in the choices he was making. Sure, it could be argued that the old Neal Caffrey was a strapping 175 pounds of unadulterated cockiness and self-assurance - but she knew better. Being tethered to an anklet for the better part of four years had not been conducive to following his own true path and although Neal had enjoyed working with the FBI and using his skills to bring down some bad guys, it had never been _his_ choice. Of course, he wouldn’t trade his relationship with Peter, Elizabeth and the rest of the White Collar crew for anything and those connections had been pivotal in his journey, contributing to making him the man he’d become. But Sara realized now that he’d needed time to work things out, away from all those influences, in order to become true to himself and to his destiny. 

She wondered in passing if _he_ had even realized that yet.

‘Vol 272 en provenance de New York est présentement en débarquement à la porte 17’ they heard a melodic female voice announce.

‘This is it’ said Neal, his voice shaking.

He caught a glimpse of Peter before the FBI agent had a chance to spot him. The escalator connecting the secured flight arrival area to the public waiting space was flooded with the new arrivals but it took a mere seconds for Neal to zero in on the Burkes, pointing them out to Sara the second he spotted them coming down the rolling stairs. Elizabeth was carrying the baby and Peter stood on the escalator right behind her holding their carry-on bags. Neal’s eyes remained glued on Peter, willing him to look down and within seconds, he saw Peter’s face light up as he finally noticed them in the crowd, waving to him.

The crowd began to dissipate, everyone going their separate ways and Peter, Elizabeth and baby Neal made their way to where Neal and Sara were waiting patiently. Neal’s eyes were locked on Peter’s as the Burkes finally stood right before them, smiles all around.

‘Neal!’ Peter called out as he opened his arms to hug his best friend.

Neal smiled that most sincere smile of his – the one Sara was noticing more and more on his face these days – and hugged back, tears filling his eyes.

The men finally pulled away from each other, noticing they were both teary-eyed and chuckling at their mutual failure at keeping their emotions in check. Neal turned to Elizabeth, hugging her gingerly as his eyes went to the baby she was holding in her arms. He looked so big, Neal reflected, realizing he’d missed almost a year of his namesake’s life and after kissing El on both cheeks he turned to study the child who lay calmly in his mother’s arms. 

‘Hi little guy!’ he said tentatively, not wanting to frighten him.

He’d been reading about child development ever since June had informed him of the baby’s birth and over the past nine months, he’d imagined him growing and changing, his heart breaking at not being there to witness his development in person. Neal held back from reaching for him, unwilling to upset the baby who was, according to his research, at that delicate age when babies made strange with people they didn’t know.

‘This is your uncle Neal’ Elizabeth said softly as the baby’s eyes locked onto Neal’s.

Neal held up the stuffed toy as the little guy began to gurgle. He reached out for the toy and Neal put out his arms to welcome him. Peter, El and Sara watched with delight as the baby willingly went to his uncle, smiling at the toy and making some gurgling sounds that Neal repeated to the little’s fellow’s delight. 

Sara couldn’t help but notice how the tears had returned to Neal’s eyes as he cradled the baby and she and Elizabeth exchanged knowing smiles as Peter looked on with pride. Neal had always had a knack with kids and Peter had known from the get go that the two of them would hit it off. In fact, the fear that he would never see the scene he was now witnessing had haunted him for a very long time.

They collected their luggage and made their way to the parking lot, Neal still carrying the baby as everyone else followed – a beautiful little parade as they made their way out of Charles de Gaulle International Airport.

‘We rented a car’ Sara said as they walked past the taxi stand.

‘What about...’ Elizabeth began.

‘A car seat?’ Sara said, finishing her sentence, ‘Neal thought of that. It’s already all set up in the back seat.’

Elizabeth nodded, she should have known better. Neal was a detail guy, always had been and the need for a car seat for the baby would not have escaped him. They all settled in for the drive back to the 3ième arrondissement where Neal’s apartment was located, over on rue de la Bretagne not terribly far from where he was now gainfully employed. At first, everyone seemed to be talking at once, sharing news, as if time would run out and they would be left with things unsaid. The women sat in the back with baby Neal between them and talked about Sara’s job, El’s impending return to work and the joys and challenges of parenthood while the men caught up with the most recent cases at White Collar, Jones’ promotion, Diana’s move to DC, Neal’s new job and the joys of living on the continent.

By the time they arrived at Neal’s place, everyone had begun to quiet down and the excited host got everyone a drink as the baby sat amongst them taking in all the toys Neal had gotten for him to play with during their stay.

‘I got you guys a suite nearby’ Neal said as he handed Peter a beer.

‘Where did you get my favourite beer?’ Peter asked as he took in the sight of the bottle in Neal’s hand.

Neal shrugged. ’Now, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t find you your very favourite libation?’ he asked, his composure returning.

Peter rolled his eyes as he took the beer from Neal’s hand – leave it to Caffrey, he thought.

‘The hotel is just around the corner’ Neal continued without missing a beat. ‘Literally five minutes away.’

‘You’ll love it!’ Sara added, turning to look at Elizabeth. ‘I stayed there once for work and it is very posh as we say around here.’

‘And it’s on me’ Neal hastened to add, not wanting Peter to have any concerns about the price tag of what would be a costly hotel stay.

‘No, we can’t let you do that!’ said Elizabeth as she took the glass of wine Sara offered her.

‘You’re our guests and I won’t hear of it’ Neal said taking his place next to Peter.

‘You must be making pretty good money over there at the Louvre, huh?’ Peter asked, slightly miffed that Neal always seemed to land on all fours.

Neal gave him a mysterious smile and stood, finally settling in on the floor with the baby, grabbing a nearby toy and engaging him in play.

‘I’m just going to get a few nibbles together – you guys must be starved’ said Sara, rising.

She’d spent practically every weekend at Neal’s place for the past three months and she felt very much at home playing hostess to their guests. Neal gave her a wink and a smile and watched as she moved to the kitchen followed by Elizabeth, leaving the three guys together in the living room.

‘So tell me again about this job. How did you swing it?’ Peter asked. He’d heard the story once before but he wanted to hear it again, this time while looking for tells in Neal’s eyes.

‘Like I said, it didn’t take much for me to pick up on the lax security over there. I spent a few months casing the place, picking apart their weaknesses and then, one night I slipped in and helped myself to a few artifacts from their exhibition of Mayan art...’

Peter looked on in alarm.

‘... which I returned the next day’ Neal continued. ‘Along with my long list of recommendations on how they could beef up their security.’

Peter studied Neal’s face – only Caffrey, he thought, only Caffrey.

‘So, who do they think you are?’ he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Surely, they hadn’t knowingly hired Neal Caffrey, internationally know art thief and forger.

Neal looked away mysteriously. Peter might be his best friend but he didn’t have to know everything about _everything_.

The women returned with snacks and the foursome continued with the small talk, going over their plans for the next couple of weeks. Neal had managed to get some time off and Sara had taken a week off work to spend some quality time with El, do some shopping and take her to London for a couple of days of girl time while the men tended to baby Neal. Elizabeth hadn’t had much of a break since his birth and she was looking forward to spending time with Sara whose company she’d always enjoyed.

Shortly before Neal served dinner, there came a very familiar knock in iambic pentameter, causing El to jump to her feet in anticipation. She’d been looking forward to seeing Mozzie again and she sprinted to the door, opening it to find the little guy standing there with a big smile on his face.

‘Mrs. Suit!’ he called out joyfully as they hugged.

‘Mozzie!’ she countered. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Since his sudden departure three months earlier, they hadn’t been in touch and she’d looked forward to reconnecting with him and having him spend time with the baby.

‘Where’s the little guy?’ Mozzie asked as he stepped in and looked around at the assembled group.

‘I’m right here!’ Peter called out as the group erupted in laughter.

Dinner was a fun affair with many simultaneous conversations as everyone recounted the numerous events of the past year lived apart. By the time dessert rolled around, Neal started to notice his guests were beginning to droop, their circadian rhythm totally out of whack. The baby had fallen asleep in the small bed Neal had set up for him in the guest room and he could see both Peter and Elizabeth slowly starting to fade.

‘Tired?’ Neal asked as Peter yawned.

'Look if you guys are too tired, you’re welcome to stay here tonight. Sara and I could take your room at the hotel’ he offered. ‘That way you don’t have to disturb the baby.’

Peter and El exchanged looks. It was a tempting offer. They were exhausted from the long flight and the emotions of the reunion and it was awfully tempting to walk a few feet and drop into bed.

‘I’ve got fresh linen on the beds and fresh towels in the washroom’ Neal continued, as always the consummate host.

‘Thanks’ said Peter. ‘That sounds great, maybe we could meet up back here for breakfast.’

‘Sounds like a plan’ said Neal, getting to his feet. ‘Just call us when you’re up. And don’t forget, tomorrow I’m taking you to work with me so you can meet everyone’ he added, excitedly.

Neal walked over to the bedroom and returned within a few seconds with a packed overnight case for himself and for Sara as she looked on with a frown, surprised at the speed with which he’d carried out the task.

Peter and Elizabeth wasted no time turning in and Mozzie, Neal and Sara bid everyone goodnight as they made their way out into the warm Paris night. They parted ways as Mozzie headed towards the metro and Neal and Sara continued on foot a few blocks to the Hôtel des Archives.

‘You were ready awfully fast with that bag Caffrey’ Sara commented as Neal took her hand in his, avoiding her question.

‘Are you complaining about a night at the hotel?’ he asked, a typical Caffrey deflection, something which did not escape Sara’s scrutiny.

‘Bonsoir Monsieur Caffrey’ said the woman at the desk as they finally arrived. ‘Nous vous attendions.’

‘Merci. Est-ce que tout est prêt?’ asked Neal as he took the card key from her hands.

‘Oui, monsieur. Comme vous l’avez demandé’ she replied with a smile.

Sara wasn't fluent in French as Neal now was, but she knew enough to get around and it didn’t take a rocket scientist - or a graduate in French Studies to figure out Neal had been expected at the hotel.

They made their way up to the 14th floor, an amazing view of Paris at their feet and Sara took in the sight of the opulent suite as she turned on the lights. She spotted a bottle of champagne and some strawberries dipped in chocolate by the side of the bed, which had been turned down for them.

‘All right Caffrey, spill’ she said as Neal came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.

‘What?’ he asked, feigning innocence as he curled up against her.

‘You planned this all along, didn’t you? You _wanted_ Peter and Elizabeth to stay at your place. You just conned your best friend’ she added, amused at the little sting he’d just pulled. 

Neal leaned in, letting his lips linger on her neck. ’Why should Peter and Elizabeth have all the fun? I thought you and I deserved one night in this place – after all I _am_ paying for it.’

She shook her head in exasperation as she turned to face him, a smile dancing on her lips. 

Neal would always be Neal and frankly, she wouldn’t have him any other way.

La fin


End file.
